Challenges
by SilverMidnightMoon
Summary: Look at the title
1. chapter 1

A young white-pelted she-kit bumbled out of the WindClan nursery, giggling as she chased a grey kit around the camp.

"You'll never catch me, WindClan scum!" the grey tom-kit squealed, green eyes dancing with excitement. The white-she-kit flicked her tail in annoyance, jumping out and landing on the grey tom.

"Don't laugh at me!" the white she-kit snapped as she pinned the grey tom beneath her. "It's mean to laugh at she-cats, Pouncekit!"

"Just get off of me," Pouncekit grumbled. "I wish you would actually play the pretend games instead of taking everything seriously."

"Yeah, Leafkit," a third cat, a brown tabby tom-kit walked up to the two others, helping his brother up. "This is why we don't play games with you." Leafkit's pelt burned in embarrassment. She looked away from the brothers.

"Sorry," she muttered, curling her tail around her paws as her ears flattened. "I just... hate it when you laugh at me."

"Then stop acting like a newborn kit," Pouncekit hissed, stepping away. "Let's go, Barkkit." The brown kit, Barkkit, nodded and followed Pouncekit back to the nursery with narrowed eyes. Leafkit suddenly shivered as she felt a shadow fall over her. She looked up to see a large golden tom.

"Hi, Bumbleflare," Leafkit perked up at the sight of her older brother.

"Looks like you were having a lover's quarrel," he teased. "Pouncekit, eh?" Leafkit frowned.

"What do you mean?" she asked, nudging his shoulder with her nose.

"I mean that you two are soulmates," Bumbleflare laughed. Leafkit wrinkled her nose.

"I still don't understand," she stated confusedly. Bumbleflare let out an exasperated sigh.

"Why don't you go ask an elder? I'm sure that they'd love to tell you," he finally replied. Leafkit jumped to her feet.

"Okay!" she agreed with a smile. "Thanks, Bumbleflare!" Without hesitation, she barreled over to the Elder's den, panting as she came to a stop.

"Whoa there, young one," a grey tom grumbled, staring Leafkit down. Leafkit squeaked in surprise, jumping away as she realized she had crashed into his nest. Moss was everywhere, dug up by her small paws.

"I'm really sorry Ashenfall!" she apologized nervously. "I'll clean it up, I promise!"

"See to it that you do, Leafkit," Leafkit turned at the gentle voice to see a black she-cat with a white paw and kind blue eyes. "While you are hard at work, I can tell you a story. My voice has been itching to tell one all morning anyways. Do you have any preferences?"

"What's a soulmate?" Leafkit eagerly asked, unsheathing her claws to start reorganizing the moss around Ashenfall's nest. The black she-cat drew in a sharp intake of breath.

"I know it's painful for you. You don't have to tell the greedy kit, Nightfrost," Ashenfall reminded her sourly. Nightfrost shook her head.

"She's just a kit," Nightfrost mewed. "She didn't understand. But she will soon. Listen close, Leafkit." Leafkit's ears were pricked as she listened to Nightfrost, paws busy fixing the nest.

"Soulmates are your one true partner in life," Nightfrost began. "Soulmates don't necessarily have to be romantic, though they are in most cases. They represent your love, life, and everything you hold dear. Not everyone meets their soulmates. It's mostly up to chance. But when they do, it's unclear at first that they are meant to be together. They can end up separating, especially if one has a fear of love."

"Why would someone fear love?" Leafkit interrupted, eyes wide.

"Because love is a dangerous thing," Nightfrost sighed. "It can cause a life of eternal joy and feelings of belonging. Or it can cause pain, sorrow, and regret. Love is the single most dangerous weapon ever fathomed. Love without restraint should be cautioned. Love with binds should be released. Either way, it is always balanced with hate, and you will always be unsure which to expect."

"But then why do people fall in love?" Leafkit wondered, tail flicking to the side. "It sounds awful!" Nightfrost let out a light laugh.

"It's hard to understand as a kit," she truthfully replied. "But sometimes the greatest challenges have the greatest rewards. Without your mother and father's love for each other, you wouldn't be standing here today."

"So falling in love is scary?" Leafkit asked, nosing some moss in place. Nightfrost nodded.

"Scarier than the bloodiest battles," she whispered with a soft smile. "But it makes you stronger than the largest strikes of lightning."

"I think I understand," Leafkit grinned. "Thanks, Nightfrost!" She jumped up, and much to Nightfrost's amusement, dashed out of the nursery.

"How are you feeling?" Ashenfall requested. "That couldn't have been easy for you."

"I'm alright," Nightfrost looked out at the Camp, eyes soft. "She's a kind kit, and curious at that. I didn't mind one bit."

"I'm sure my brother misses you," Ashenfall murmured. "Oakbranch always told me that his greatest fear was losing his future with you."

"He should have thought about that before he ran into the danger," Nightfrost sighed. "But I forgave him long ago. The threats have long passed, and now I await the time that I too shall join him."

"Not soon, I hope," Ashenfall looked alarmed, and he sat straighter.

"Of course not," Nightfrost laughed. "I have yet to see Leafkit become a warrior. I have many moons left in me, if it means I get to see my kin grow up." Ashenfall smiled at that, licking Nightfrost's ear.

"Time will tell."


	2. Naked Eye

"I can't believe we're headed to battle! This is the best day ever!" A young brown tabby she-cat exclaimed, walking alongside a muscular black and white tom.

"Be careful, Leafpaw," he muttered, his long tail resting momentarily on her shoulder. His muzzle was dotted with white hairs, and his back held a slump to it that came with old age. "A battle is a dangerous thing. It isn't something to ever hope for." Leafpaw rolled her eyes with a giggle.

"That's ridiculous!" She replied with a twitch of her tail. "Firpaw told me that battles are exciting and thrill packed! He said that he beats everyone he fights, and that I will too!" She puffed out her chest in pride as they continued the walk through the lush forest alongside their clanmates.

"Firpaw says a lot of things, none of which are true," The tom growled. "Just promise to be careful and stay out of trouble." He started down at her through narrowed green eyes.

"I promise, Darkfoot!" Leafpaw giggled, starting to walk faster. Darkfoot let her pass him hesitantly, and Leafpaw bounced up near the front of the patrol.

"So when are we reaching the ThunderClan border?" Leafpaw slowed down as she reached a tortoiseshell she-cat's side.

"Very soon!" The she-cat hissed excitedly. "I'm so excited that my daughter is in the battle! I know you'll be just like me. Perhaps even deputy too, one day!"

"Thanks, Needlefrost!" Leafpaw smiled up at her mother. "I'll try my best, I promise!"

"I don't expect anything less," Needlefrost purred, licking her daughter's ear.

"They've ambushed us!" A yowl broke out form one of the cats in their group as muscular toms and she-cats poured down from the branches and landed on the cats below. Leafpaw screeched as a tom dragged her down with his claw, jumping back to her feet.

"ShadowClan scum!" The ginger tom apprentice spat, muscles rippling. "We knew you'd try to take the forest!"

"You've been stealing our prey," Leafpaw shot back hotly, crouching with tense muscles. Her blue eyes shone, claws unsheathing as she prepared for battle. "It's only fair."

"Say that to my claws!" The other apprentice hissed, leaping at Leafpaw. She wasn't prepared for his size, and tumbled over, scrabbling to get to her paws again. Yield and screeches were thrown around the forest as ShadowClan blindly fought ThunderClan, dirt and blood staining their pelts.

"Hear that?" The ginger tom snarled as he pinned Leafpaw. "You're losing. Again. ShadowClan never wins."

"Lies!" Leafpaw unsheathed her hind claws, battering at the ginger tom without looking. She jumped to her feet, closing her eyes and attempting to bite his shoulder. She heard a choke, and opened her eyes with satisfaction. _Did I win?_ She turned her gaze down to see the tom.

"Warriors... don't kill to win," the ginger tom rasped. Leafpaw gaped at the blood gushing from his throat. _I... did that?_ As the tom closed his eyes, Leafpaw could only stare at his ripped throat in horror. She slowly backed away, ears flattening as her tail lashed from side to side. She almost ran away, but heard a strangled cry.

"Flamepaw!" A white she-cat apprentice howled, blue eyes wide with shock and grief. She raced over to the red apprentice, head bowed over his limp form. She looked up at Leafpaw, teeth bared and ears flat.

"You did this," She snarled, claws unsheathing. Leafpaw stared at her blankly, unable to deny. _She's right. I killed a cat. I killed a tom before he had the chance to be a warrior. I'm a murderer... how could I have looked forward to battle?_

"You will _die_ for killing my brother!" The apprentice yowled. She jumped at Leafpaw, taking claws across her ears and muzzle. Leafpaw just stood there as she attacked, head hung in despair.

"Retreat!" Leafpaw's head snapped up, shaking as blood gushed from her wounds. Her mother had sounded the retreat. _Why didn't Owlstar declare the retreat?_ Leafpaw scrabbled away, barely making it into the throng Of ShadowClan cats as they stormed out of ThunderClan, the white she-cat chasing her tail. A brown tom held the she-cat back from chasing Leafpaw out of their territory.

"That's right!" She screeched at Leafpaw. "Run from me! But never forget what you've done!" Leafpaw kept her head low in shame, only looking up once to see her clan.

They were badly wounded. About half of the cats that had gone into battle made it back out, not including Owlstar. Needlefrost was lead now.

 _How was I so foolish?_

 _The world isn't kind._

 _It's tortured, cruel. Beastly._


	3. COPYCAT

Pebblepaw, son of Silverstar and Oaktail, was confusing. Everyone expected him to be an outgoing tom like his father before him. They prayed he wouldn't be like Silverstar, his mother, a cat that the Clan feared more than respected.

StarClan must have ignored those prayers.

Just like Silverstar, Pebblekit was quiet. He never asked questions about anything. While Whitekit and Jaykit hopped around camp pestering warriors and demanding stories from elders, Pebblekit would silently observe from a distance. A few cats who dared to gossip would remark on a look of longing in his cool amber gaze. Longing to join the other kits in play, perhaps. Others decided it was an ambition to follow in his mother's pawsteps. Whatever the case, Pebblekit moved forward with a quiet stillness about him, even when Oaktail tried to break him out of his bubble.

The Clan didn't see Pebblepaw's whispered questions at night to his mother. Little things, like ' _Why is the sky blue?'_ or ' _Are other clans like ours?'_ They also didn't hear Silverstar's replies degrading her son's insolence or the way her own amber eyes glared down at her son. They didn't know how she warned him against childish things like playing, or how his kithood was stolen from him in an instant.

RiverClan continued to watch Pebblekit become Pebblepaw, cheering for his first steps to becoming a warrior. A few queens would later discuss the gloom in Pebblepaw's eyes or the apprehension ripping from his pale grey fur. No one took notice of where Pebblepaw was looking, and no one took notice of the way that Firbranch, the medicine cat, gazed back with soft green eyes. The Clan would never stop to consider that perhaps Pebblepaw did have a dream, one that didn't align with his mother's. They didn't care. RiverClan had a topic of gossip, and that was all that mattered.

RiverClan was blind yet again to the way that Pebblepaw mysteriously repeatedly injured himself. Only his mother watched as he spent more and more time in the medicine den rather than training, and how he returned from hunting patrols with nothing more than a mouse. How during battles he came back with more slashes than he dealt. Pebblepaw was pushed harder.

' _Act like a warrior, son,'_ Silverstar would hiss when her mate wasn't watching. ' _Not a medicine cat. You aren't weak.'_ Silverstar didn't respect medicine cats like the other leaders did. She saw them as too weak to fight and too unskilled to hunt. Her son would never be one of them.

Pebblepaw soon picked up skills from Firbranch. When his mother wasn't looking he'd occasionally treat a sprained paw or a small cut. He began to get dreams that he didn't understand. One was of a single drop of honey falling from a tree, something so insignificant he chose to dismiss it. A few days later Honeyfur died while kitting. Dreams like this haunted him as if StarClan was sending him tens of hundreds of dreams just to prove to him that he didn't just want to be a medicine cat; _he needed to be one._ It wasn't long before Pebblepaw started to share his dreams with Firbranch.

Firbranch was amazed. Pebblepaw had the strongest connection to StarClan out of any medicine cat he'd ever known. He knew that it would be a shame if his talent went to waste. So he started to teach Pebblepaw in secret between patrols and training.

Silverstar discovered them when stumbling into Firbranch's den one day. She swore that Pebblepaw would never be allowed to speak to Firbranch again, not for any minor injury or a small cough. ' _You'll be a warrior soon anyways,'_ she snapped at the time. ' _You can't always come crying to Firbranch when you stub a toe.'_

The other apprentices chose to ignore the strained rises and fall of Pebblepaw's breath or the puddle of water gathering under his snout that night. Just like they turned a blind eye to the small nicks in his ear or the scars on his snout that began to appear after he spoke with his mother in private.

Warriors continued their gossip. It spread to other clans through Gatherings. Everyone started to wonder what Silverstar was doing to her odd kit.

And then came the dream. Pebblepaw clearly saw an oak tree falling through the forest. He knew it was about his father. But when Pebblepaw tried to bring his frantic prophecy to Firbranch, he was forced away. And when he tried to convince his mother, she simply frowned. Only medicine cats got visions, and her son was not a medicine cat.

The next day his father, the only source of joy he still had, died from blood loss in a skirmish with ShadowClan. Pebblepaw was heartbroken as he stared down at his father's dark brown pelt matted with blood.

He began to have the same dream every night after; a lone pebble sinking through a bright river. Falling to the bottom. He never knew what it meant, besides the fact it was about him. Pebblepaw started to constantly obsess over that dream, right up until the night before his warrior ceremony He had somehow managed to pass the exam despite being awful at hunting.

"Come with me," Silverstar asked her son quietly, standing at the entrance of the camp. Her silvery pelt radiated power and her amber gaze bore into Pebblepaw's softer eyes. He nodded, shirking away as she raised a paw to start walking. He quickly regained his bearings and hurried after his mother. They arrived at the river shortly after.

"Prove to me you can fish well enough to be a warrior," Silverstar demanded, sitting down at the water's edge and wrapping a sleek tail around her paws.

"B-but didn't I already have my assessment?" Pebblepaw asked, his voice quiet. He could easily overpower her, that much was obvious. He had fully grown. He'd thought about this for days now. What if he fought back?

"You did, but I am your leader, and I must make sure that you won't drag down the clan," Silverstar sneered. "I've seen what you bring back. Pitiful minnows and voles. I won't let you become a warrior if you just squander by, even if you are my kit."

"I won't, mother," Pebblepaw replied sharply, eyes leveling with Silverstar's. "I refuse." Silverstar sprang to her paws.

"Then I will show you what happens to cats who defy my direct orders," she said, raising a paw and bringing it down on Pebblepaw's shoulder. Pebblepaw dodged, a glare settling over his features.

"I won't let you hurt me anymore!" he screeched, running at her. He had thought his plan was foolproof. Pebblepaw was stronger than his mother and faster than her due to her old age. But he never accounted for one thing, the most important fact of them all.

Warriors fought battles, and Pebblepaw was never meant to be a warrior.

His lack of technique was nothing against her years of experience, her dedication and training pouring out into the battle with her son. Pebblepaw backed away, his defense bringing him all the way to the edge of the water. The tide swirled around his paws.

"I will finish this," Silverstar yowled. "You are not my son- no RiverClan cat would raise a paw against their mother!"

"You are not my mother. You never were!" Pebblepaw screeched through tears and blood mingling on his snout. Old friends meeting again. Silverstar reared up, pushing him into the river. He stumbled in, trying to swim away from his mother.

He was no match.

His mother pushed down on his head.  
A few bubbles rose up, popping.

His struggle was silent, thanks to the water.

And the pebble fell

down

into

the

murky

depths

below.


End file.
